


the person sleeping in your bed

by ClassyFangirl



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, Finale spoilers, Fingering, Hate Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-16 15:24:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/863538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClassyFangirl/pseuds/ClassyFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's not proud of herself, okay, but Freddie Lounds is a hot mess of snark, hair, and wiles. Beverly fell fast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the person sleeping in your bed

**Author's Note:**

> Title shamelessly snagged from "All Falls Down" from Chaplin the Musical, which has nothing to do with this fic or pairing, but is the most Freddie Lounds song you have ever heard.

A week after Will is officially taken into custody, Beverly goes out to a shitty bar in downtown Baltimore in order to get _royally_ smashed. Without Price and Zeller- on many occasions, she would gladly enjoy their company and laugh as they critiqued the other patrons, her, and each other, but tonight, she'd rather be alone, thanks.

She's on her third glass of scotch when a leopard print jacket enters her peripheral vision. "Oh, hell no," Beverly mutters into her glass.

"Agent Katz," Freddie Lounds says brightly. "What a surprise."

"Do you stalk everyone?" Beverly asks. Maybe she's a little drunk. Buzzed, at least. But she's _certainly_ pissed, and this is the wrong face to see right now. "Are you a stalker, specializing in harmless FBI agents?"

"Not so harmless, I hear," Freddie says, taking the seat next to her. "That Will Graham of yours..."

Beverly waves her glass. "Innocent until proven guilty," she says. "Though I guess that doesn't sell ads on your little blog, huh?"

Freddie smirks and waves down the bartender. "I'll have what she's having. Thanks."

Beverly watches Freddie take a long swig of the scotch. "I didn't take you for a fan of the strong stuff."

"Mm. No one ever does." She smiles slyly at her. "They think I look too sweet."

Beverly scoffs. "Sweet as thorn bush."

"I could bore you with a cliché about roses and thorns, but I'll spare you."

Beverly's mind gets a little fuzzy around there, and the next thing she knows, she's making out with Freddie Lounds in the back of her car. "You rotten bitch," Beverly hisses against Freddie's neck. "You screwed him over."

"Look," Freddie says, hooking her thumbs in the belt loops of Beverly's jeans, "normally, I could talk about Will Graham for _hours_ , but- ah- forgive me if I'm not particularly interested right now."

They make it back to Freddie's place, which, admittedly, is a hotel room, but a nicer one than Beverly was expecting. Tattle Crime must be profiting big time from recent events. Beverly tries not to think about that, and instead bites down on Freddie's lower lip. God, if nothing else, the girl's got _nice_ lips.

"I've got nice everything," Freddie whispers, grinning.

Ah. Beverly was wondering just how drunk she was. She nearly retorts something rude, but Freddie's fingers press between her thighs and _shit_ , okay, fine, the girl's got talented fingers too.

"Get undressed," Freddie says, pulling her own jacket off. "Come on, Agent. I don't have all night."

Beverly rolls her eyes, but she tugs her shirt off and starts on her jeans. She glances up and laughs sharply at Freddie's tiger print lingerie. "You got a thing for jungle cats?" she says, pushing her jeans down.

"No," Freddie says. She grins wickedly and pushes Beverly down onto the bed. "I like predators."

Beverly snorts and rolls her eyes. "Thought you hated clichés," she says.

"Are you kidding? I'm a journalist. We _live_ for clichés." Freddie pulls Beverly's panties down and lets them sit around her knees. "But I can be creative, too."

"Oh, yeah? Prove it."

Freddie seems awfully determined to prove it. Her tongue laps a long stripe across Beverly's hole and it makes her gasp and tighten her fingers around the sheets. "Fuck," she breathes. "Okay, okay- you keep on doing that."

Freddie chuckles, and the heat of her breath against Beverly makes her shiver. It's not just her lips- her whole mouth is talented, as evidenced by the way she eats Beverly out like she has no greater desire in life.

When Beverly is spent, Freddie sits up and licks her lips. "All right," she says. "Your turn, Agent Katz."

Beverly huffs and pulls Freddie towards her by the hips. "I'll show you," she says. "C'mere." Beverly pulls Freddie's panties down and slips two fingers into her, savoring the immediate gasp she earns. Beverly rubs Freddie's clit with the side of her thumb and arches her two fingers. This makes Freddie moan and dig her fingernails into Beverly's shoulders, but she finds she doesn't mind the pain. Hell, it feels almost appropriate.

They lie together when they're done, slick with each other's sweat but not touching. "I want a cigarette," Freddie says.

Beverly looks at her. "You smoke?"

"No. I just want one." She sits up and adjusts her panties. "My girlfriend smokes. Maybe that's why I want one."

"Damn. I'm the other woman? This always happens to me." She says it jokingly, but Freddie scowls at her. "Geez. Sorry. Touchy, touchy."

"She's out in Chicago anyway. I'm pretty sure I'm going to stay in town, keep covering Will Graham's case." Freddie looks at Beverly very seriously. "I'd like to have a friend in the city."

Beverly...considers it. "What do you mean by 'friend'? Fuck buddy or informant?"

"Both, if you like. I'll even give you a cut of the profits for any info you give me."

She laughs. "Nice try. Hell no. I'll fuck my friend's worst enemy, but I won't spill his secrets."

Freddie just shrugs, not offended, to Beverly's dismay. "Suit yourself. You can still stay on as fuck buddy. I appreciate the company."

"...I'll think about it."

"That's kind of you. You might want to think quickly, though." Freddie tosses Beverly's shirt at her. "Or else I'm kicking you out." She smiles sweetly and shrugs. "No offense."

Beverly smirks. "None taken. All right. I'll be your gal pal. If only because we took your car and I'm too drunk to get back to the bar from here."

"That's reason enough for me." Freddie lays back down and grins. "Maybe we can even go for round two, if you think you can handle it."

"Oh, game _on_ , sister."

**Author's Note:**

> (Freddie's Chicago girlfriend, of course, is Wendy, from Red Dragon.)


End file.
